I've got the pedal to the metal on a highway to hell.
Gotta keep my eyes on the road. Only time will tell.
I struggle and suffer through each passing day.
Gotta change my route, Gotta change my ways.
I see the exits that are off to my right, as each lonely day
shrivels into night.
The hands of the clock aggressively tick. No time to decide, I've gotta be quick.
The exit sign reads "green pastures, still waters ahead". Gotta decide, or else I'll be dead. The sun rises in the east and sets in west, foolishly speeding forward at least I'm trying my best. Ignoring the signs warning "danger ahead!". I've gotta turn off, or else Ill be dead.
So focused, so determined, to barrel ahead.
Why can't I stop? Why don't I hit the brake? Its right there!
Turn off for Gods sake!
"Still waters, green pastures ahead". I rush along as if nothings been said.
"Excuse me, Lord? What did you say?" As I struggle and suffer through each passing day.
"I've told you once and I've told you twice. Is there really a need for you to be told thrice?"
I say "No Lord, the sign is there, I see. No need for a thrice, the problem is me.
The sun rises from the east and sets in the West, you know Lord, at least I'm trying my best."
"Still waters, green pastures ahead". With deaf ears I've heard it all said. Barreling forward. Soon Ill be dead.
"Still waters, green pastures ahead."

Put it aside
Typed my ride
Name on the top
Speed gonna drop
Put it in the back, in the back
In the back, in the back
The ticket fake
Gonna save
Put it aside
The ticket fake
Gonna save
It's all mine
Put it in the back, in the back
In the back, in the back
Lights behind, fear inside
Lesson learned, slow my ride
Don't burn it
Don't rip it
Save it
The ticket fake
Gonna save
Put it aside
The ticket fake
Gonna save
It's all mine
Schoology, Powerschool
Grades, money
Ticket, gotta save
Ya, but it's fake
Mine to keep
I gonna weep
In the back, in the back
In the back, in the back
Hiding away
All day
All night
In the back, in the back
In the back, in the back
Schoology, Powerschool
Grades, money
Ticket, gotta save
Schoology, Powerschool
Grades, money
Ticket, gotta save
Ya, but it's fake
Ayye

windows down
twenty over
rain pouring in
back seats are covered
world is ours
time to takeover
no more fear
happiness rediscovered

Rain, so fine just like dust
looking at sky, purple,
over-the-top roller coasters
Peaking at 92 mph
dodging the yellow
More than numbers, I passed
Cardboard windshield for glass
Clarity, it comes and goes
I need to slow down
Even when I'm
Not going
Fast enough.

Anxiety for me feels much more fast-paced than others, or so it seems.
My mind takes full control as if I were a passenger in a car.
Looking side to side at all the other cars,
They all look the same yet different.
Then we get on the highway and everything changes.
It makes me want to be in a car wreck,
So my eyes can finally see the yield sign,
And my brain can stop going over the speed limit.

The solo road takes hold. I don't know where it goes, but where it goes I go.
A midnight’s drive under a sky full of clouds, blocking the moonlight.
Only the glimpse of a shimmering star guides my way, but to what I do not know.
A night of indifference, just going where this winding road takes me, but
I can barely see that shining star through clouds of hesitation.
The road is a one lane highway to a destination unknown
the fog is so dense it is like a layer of blankets used to hide the fears of a child in the dark.
At this point I wonder if it can hide my fears as well.
Do I even want to hide from these fears at all or should I stand up to the inevitable?
My engine’s sputtering, stalling, my car’s running out of gas and I feel like I just might crash.
I put my foot to the gas and hope that I wont fly through the glass and end up with my car smashed, because this car is my only way off this **** road in the first place.
I see no headlights coming my way even though I pray that one day I will see a light at the end of this godforsaken road but the day isn't today.
Some days I pray that I will lay on the road face down
with a trail of my essence turning the road red with release
but other days I carry on like it was my job to mindlessly keep both of my hands on the steering wheel and hope that at the end of this road, there’s an exit sign,
and that all I need’s a little more time.
Because night after night, my hands grip the wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as the fog that clouds my vision day after day.
My sighs echo down this ever growing street, every twist and turn feels like another reason
to unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door because
I’m going 85 in a 50 and I can’t even see my own headlights on the road
my vision is blurred and my mind is as foggy as the road I drive on.
Every now and again I wonder what the point is
I can barely remember the day I started driving, it was so long ago
and I pray for the day when I can wash this fog away in rain,
that I’ll find an exit and take it.